


New World

by intotheruins



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack, Loki Playing Matchmaker, M/M, MCU Kink Bingo, Sentient Sex Toy, did I mention the crack?, okay, yes?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 22:06:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intotheruins/pseuds/intotheruins
Summary: Written for the "Character is a sentient sex toy" square on my MCU Kink Bingo card. In which Steve is confused, Thor is a gentleman, and Loki is a little shit.





	New World

**Author's Note:**

> Probably set sometime after Thor: Ragnarok, but Infinity War never happened.

Since waking up to a new world, Steve has experienced a lot of strange things. Cell phones. Star Wars. Absolutely anything Tony Stark has created. Whole new ways of thinking—some of which thrill him, others he finds confusing. Confused; that's the word of the... well. His life. He's always confused.

But never more so than this very moment.

He's aware. He's definitely aware and thinking. He can hear voices outside the room, though he has no idea what room he's in—he's fairly certain it isn't his. He can see the ceiling, walls, the end of a bed, but it's like looking at a memory, clear without any sense of being physical.

The biggest problem is he can't move. At all.

It's not that he's numb—he can feel a soft blanket and the slightly-too-warm air of the room. There's just... oh, god, there's nothing to move.

Great. The one time he wants to swear, and he can't even do that.

“—n the bed.” It's Loki's voice, the words clear as the door swings open. It took Steve weeks of getting used to the new, more mischief than evil Loki to stop flinching, and even longer to start trusting him, though it was worth it—he's actually the funniest person Steve's met in a long time, and now that he has something close to a real family, he's fiercely protective in his own strange, indirect way.

But he's still the god of mischief, and Steve has absolutely zero doubt in his mind that his current predicament is all Loki's fault.

“Brother?” Vision is still funky, but Steve can “see” Thor staring down at the bed, at _him._ “It's...?”

“The humans call it a dildo,” Loki says, beaming in that too-bright way that definitely means he's up to something.

Wait.

Did he say  _dildo?_

“What is its purpose?” Thor's brow is furrowed in a cute (dang, he promised himself he'd stop doing that) little frown. He leans down and reaches out a finger, trailing it along what Steve supposes is currently his body and _oh,_ he can _feel that..._

“Practice.” Loki grins.

Practice? Does Thor want to... well, that is one of the new ways of thinking that makes Steve happy. He never did understand why love would be restricted to couples of the opposite sex. And sex, wow has the attitude toward sex in general changed since his time.

So, okay. Thor must want to... court... a man, and wants to at least have an idea of what he's doing in certain, ah, bed-related areas beforehand. That's really sweet, actually.

Except Loki is standing behind Thor _smirking,_ looking _right at Steve,_ and it was funny when he made every roll of toilet paper in the tower vanish (mostly because it was Tony who ended up frantically trying to find one) or when he replaced anything drinkable with some kind of Asgardian alcohol that resulted in several blackouts and, according to Tony and Natasha, “One hell of a party.” Considering most of them woke up naked, Steve has no doubt that the night definitely counted as what Tony Stark would consider a party.

But this is too far. This is ridiculous.

He really wishes he could glare at Loki's smug face.

“I understand.” Thor lifts the... lifts Steve in both hands, gently—his skin is very warm. “Thank you, Loki, this is very kind.” He turns and beams at his brother and Steve wants to scream _really? Can't you tell when he's playing a prank by now?_

“Of course.” Loki winks—Steve does not miss the fact that it was directed at him and not Thor—and shuts the door.

Leaving Steve-the-dildo alone with Thor. Who needs practice.

Steve is going to _kill_ Loki.

Thor doesn't waste any time. He hefts Steve, testing the weight. Rubs a thumb along the head, which feels really nice, actually. He grips the base with his other hand and strokes a few times, a bit too soft and then a bit too tight. He can't really need this kind of practice, he has to masturbate, right?

If Steve could blush, he'd be tomato-red. He can admit, after months, that he has something of a crush on Thor, but he's always managed to direct his mind away from any explicitly sexual thoughts. Now, his mind oh-so-helpfully supplies an image of Thor stretched out naked on this bed, legs spread and one of those massive hands cradling his hardening cock—

Heat. Wet. Hint of hard pressure from teeth oh god he's _in Thor's mouth._

Steve proceeds to have a panic attack without an actual body or brain, which is officially the strangest thing to ever happen to him. Fortunately, it's a short-lived attack—Thor's trying out using his tongue now, clumsy but still soft and wet and _fantastic,_ and Steve gets so caught up in the sensation that he forgets he isn't actually in his own body.

Which is the second he transforms back into a human. Naked. With his cock still in Thor's mouth.

They both freeze. Thor's eyes are huge and Steve can't remember how to breathe and—

And then Thor laughs, mouth still full of Steve's dick and well, really, does Steve actually need to breathe? Coming down Thor's throat seems like a much better idea.

He's lying in a daze, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if that actually just happened or if it was some bizarre dream, when Thor stretches out next to him on his side, head propped up in one hand and that huge, bright smile on his face.

“Loki is never allowed to play matchmaker ever again,” Steve gasps.

Thor chuckles. “I'm inclined to agree, though this seems to have turned out well.”

There's the slightest hint of a questioning lilt at the end. Steve flings his hand over until he finds Thor's shoulder to squeeze, and smiles his assurance that yes, it turned out well. Weird, but well. He'll probably be mortified in a minute, once his brain is clear, but otherwise—

Thor's hard.

Steve stares. The bulge is sizable, but Thor doesn't seem to be making any move to handle it (ha, handle it, oh god, he hates himself and Loki more). When Thor follows his gaze, he merely shrugs and says, “Worry not, I expect nothing from you. Especially since I haven't had the chance to properly court you yet.”

That's... that's just sweet, is what it is. Maybe Steve'll just save that mortification for later.

He's in a different world. It's about time he tried something new.

 


End file.
